My Boy Builds Coffins
by L3gitD3ntist
Summary: Peeta has joined the Career pack in hopes of surviving as long as he can whilst still trying to protect Katniss, but Cato isn't falling for the whole 'Star Crossed Lovers' story the pair are running with - and he won't stop at anything till he proves he's right. There was always a pair of Star Crossed Lovers in the 74th Hunger Games; just not the pair the Capitol had hoped for.
1. Chapter 1 - The Hunt

**Disclaimer:** _All these beautiful bamfs belong to Suzanne Collins not me, though Suzanne, dear, if you're reading this…how much do you want for them?._

The Star Crossed lovers of District 12. It was what was on everyone's tongue in the Capitol, even the other tributes let the words flitter through them like idle gossip; the boy who bakes and the girl on fire – they were destined to fail because even if one of them won they would lose the other. A real tragedy.

"It's bullshit, that's what it is." Cato grumbled under his breath as he bit into the rabbit leg in his hand as he sat watch, Clove at his side as the bright orange glow from the fire they'd built bounced off their surroundings and their faces; each line and detail defined in a new light by the bright flicker of the flames. "What is?" The girl spoke up as she turned her head to look at her district partner, her own mouth filled with meat as she spoke; her hand going to wipe her lips with the sleeve of her jacket as she swallowed. "Loverboy and his stupid girlfriend; I don't buy it." The burly blonde mumbled again, another mouthful of rabbit muffling his words slightly as they left his mouth. He gestured with his head towards the sleeping blonde from District 12 that they'd taken in provided he helped them find the girl Cato very much wanted to light on fire. "I dunno Cato, the kid seems pretty dedicated." Clove glanced over at the sleeping boy, screwing her nose up in distaste for him like he was a piece of garbage. There was something about the boy, he was useless in more ways than one, he looked hopeless like he knew he was going to die – so many tributes did but Peeta had looked like he'd already given up hope. But there was a spark that set him apart from all the other pathetic sad excuse bags of blood that were in the games; there was a sense of something that Clove couldn't quite pinpoint but she had known Cato had seen it too.

"And? That doesn't mean shit." The bigger blonde huffed as he took another bite of the meat in his grip before tossing the clean bone towards the fire and kicking up a bit of ash and charred wood on impact. The dark haired girl opened her mouth to speak but decided against it, she knew Cato well enough to know it was like arguing with a brick wall – no matter what she said; until Cato was proven wrong about the pair then there was no point in trying to sway his thoughts. Instead the girl took to glancing around the camp, Glimmer was out like alight with her head on Marvel's stomach, who was spread out like the entire ground beneath him was one giant mattress and it belonged solely to him; and as her eyes continued she let them dwell on the District 3 boy who slept balled up and slightly away from the others and then, finally, she looked at Peeta. Glancing back to Cato, Clove noticed the bigger boy's steel blue eyes hadn't wavered from the sleeping blonde boy opposite him. She kept her mouth closed as she watched Cato's gaze, flittering her own between Loverboy and the bulky blonde to her left as she tried to study his face; there was an array of things going across his features though he appeared to try and keep a straight face but the fire light showed Clove the way his muscles in his jaw flexed and the movements of his Adam's apple with every shallow swallow, even defining the occasional furrow of his brows. "Get some sleep." Cato spoke up, shattering the silence that was held only by the sound of the flickering fire. Clove didn't argue, simply nodding and watching her district partner stare straight ahead, past the fire and right at Loverboy.

Cato didn't tear his gaze away from the sleeping blonde for longer than a few moments, the sounds of the wild within the arena occasionally causing the burly blonde to look up and around him but he never met anything other than the extending deep shadows. Eventually, every time his gold blue gaze strayed, he returned to looking at the bread boy that seemed to idly lay out like he was dead to the world and oblivious to the games around him. On one occasion Cato pulled his gaze away to notice the brightening pink tones on the fake horizon above the arena; the mix on tangerine and pale rose signalled the time must have been nearing 5 in the morning. Peeta was the first to stir, having been used to the early arising from having to help his mother at the bakery back in his district to prepare bread early. With a stretch and a groan, the blonde rubbed one of his eyes and slowly lifted himself up into an awkward sitting position, barely taking in Cato or the others at this point and instead simply rubbing at his face. Before Cato could do or say much however the boy from three made his own similar noises as he lifted himself up, his attention instantly going to those around him and for a brief moment he let a look of relief register on his face as though he was thankful to survive the night considering his company. With a hand on his stomach, Cato got to his feet and stretched his own hulky frame out with several cracks running through his bones and causing his muscles to tense up before relaxing once more. "You." He pointed one of his fingers at the smallest of the three boys that were now awake before gesturing to the fire with a jerk of his head. "Keep watch and keep it lit." He then turned to Peeta, a smirk on his face – the first sign of emotion all night and matching his smirk he had a tone of unchallenged authority. "You're with me Loverboy, we're going hunting." The bigger blonde tossed a knife towards the other as he settled his own sword on his back. Peeta fumbled as the knife was tossed towards him, jolting back a little as if he was afraid the weapon had intent to actually harm him; though once it hit the floor the boy was able to collect it, stuffing it in his own belt.

"Hunting?" The smaller of the two blondes retorted, his own gaze not on Cato but instead watching the boy from District three restoring the crackling flames on the fire; the boy's hands shook noticeably as he seemed to scour all the other sleeping careers. Cato was preparing a pack, stuffing a few bottles of water into a satchel they'd managed to collect when they conquered the supplies from the other tributes; looking up finally as he tossed the strap over one of his bulging shoulders. "Yeah, hunting. What? Does killing your food make you uneasy Loverboy?" The bigger blonde scoffed cruely before making his way past the other blonde, shoving his shoulder slightly, speaking as he went and encouraging the other to follow. "C'mon." With that he made his way towards the heavily wooded area, Peeta in toe like an obedient dog following its master; though in Peeta's eyes he was merely doing what he could to stay alive for as long as he could to protect Katniss. They seemed to have won over the Capitol but the reaction he'd received from Katniss seemed to sway his initial feelings, she had made it obvious she didn't reciprocate them – but then again he had hoped the little story would at least gain her and him enough sponsors to survive. But Cato didn't need to know this, no one did; it was their little secret.

Peeta had been so lost within his own thoughts about his own district partner, wondering how she was holding up on her own, if she'd made any alliances or if she was still alive and well; he hadn't noticed the career stop before him, causing Peeta to run right into him. "Watch yourself!" Cato snapped as he felt the smaller blonde collide with his back and send him forward a little though not enough for him to lose his balance. "I-I'm sorry!" Peeta quickly retorted as he pulled himself back from the bulkier blonde and did his best to steady his own footing in the mossy undergrowth beneath their feet. Cato shot the boy a dark look before muttering under his breath as he held a hand up near the other boy to make sure he didn't retaliate. "You better be." Peeta opened his mouth to retort despite the signal not to but was silenced again as Cato moved his hand forward to beckon the other slowly; he'd seen something in the distance, moving and breathing – oblivious to its impending demise. It happened in seconds, faster than Peeta could register as the animal released a pained cry and the smaller of the two blondes felt a warm spray litter across his cheek; blue eyes wide and looking very much like the animal Cato had just slaughtered without a single blink. Hoisting the deer over his shoulder, the bulky framed boy raised an eyebrow at the other boy before sneering in amusement at the look on his face. "Can't handle a little blood, huh?" It was rhetorical though even if it wasn't Peeta was still shocked at the swiftness and carelessness the Career before him had shown to such an innocent creature. Surely he should have expected it; he'd seen Cato slay so many tributes the day before hand but still it seemed to set in concrete the younger boys thoughts - Cato wasn't a brute, he wasn't simply a boy with an anger problem or a boy with more muscles than brains; Cato was, in every sense of the word, a monster.


	2. Chapter 2 - Feeding time at the Zoo

Clove looked up as she noticed two figures approaching from the thick of the trees, at first it appeared the biggest of the pair who she already knew was Cato was carrying another over his shoulder; though upon closer inspection she realized it was a deer. Breakfast. Rubbing her nose a little she got to her feet, as did Marvel – who had been busy grilling the District three boy as to simply rile him up; shoving the kid and even flicking water at him from one of the bottles from time to time , anything to have wind the timid boy up. The two Careers approached the two blondes that were making their way closer towards the camp their little group had set up, Glimmer was sorting through the varied supplies they'd claimed and the District three boy was savouring the lack of distress Marvel was causing him. "Oh? Didn't you catch anything Loverboy?" The brunette boy scoffed, elbowed by Clove who grinned up at him as if it was all a big joke, Cato joining in with his own sneer of amusement. "The only thing he's good for is a shield." The burly blonde added his comment before giving Peeta a rough shove that was intended to be passed off as playful though there was more aggression in the act than there should have been; causing Peeta to stumble a bit to his side away from Cato in the momentum of the shove and making him appear just that bit more weak to the other Careers.

While it was all jokes and mocking between the three Careers as they made their way towards the fire, Cato dropping the dead animal's lifeless carcass to the ground as carelessly as he had killed the creature, to Peeta it was becoming more and more obvious at what the Capitol could do to people. Though he would never justify their behaviour with what he knew, the smaller blonde boy knew all too well that they were only so horrible and ruthless because they were trained to survive. They were products of the Capitol, and this year Cato was the poster boy of a Hunger Games victor if Peeta ever did see one. Having lost himself in his thoughts again, Peeta had hardly noticed he'd been staring at the hulking figure he'd grown so quickly to fear – and when Cato caught his gaze, the bigger of the pair quirked and quizzical brow towards him before taking a step closer and speaking up; his previous joking with the others of his little Career pack ending when the locked gaze had caught him a little off guard. It made him uneasy in a way, and as he stepped closer Cato narrowed his gaze on the smaller blonde. "What the fuck are you looking at Loverboy?" he didn't really expect an answer from the smaller boy but managed to achieve his goal. At the feeling of the hot breath near him despite it being considerable distance between them and the fact that Cato at even this closeness still managed to look menacing, Peeta diverted his gaze at the other and instead locked his attention to the dead animal that sat between them like some helpless barricade that was just as useless as he was; or at least how he assumed he was compared to Cato, he was pretty sure that according to the whole Career pack he was on par with the deer in his usefulness – then again, the deer was at least able to provide a meal.

Scoffing and screwing up his nose slightly in amusement at how quickly Peeta backed down and looked away, Cato pulled a small hunting knife from his belt and tossed it to land just before Peeta's boots. He wasn't an artist with a knife himself, that was more Clove's trick but he was able to at least lodge the small handheld weapon into the ground blade first. This seemed to catch Peeta's attention as he looked back up at the burly blonde – at this point noticing that the others seemed to have moved back to their previous tasks of fixing up the fire and pestering the District three boy. It was just Cato before him, and he was uncertain if he should lock his eyes with Cato's again; instead he settled for just looking in the general direction of the other then back to the knife. "Skin it." Cato's demands were clear, he wasn't asking if Peeta could do it, he wasn't offering to let Peeta do it – it was exactly that, a demand. Turning on his heel with a final look at the smaller blonde, Cato made his way to the fire to aid Clove in prepping it for their breakfast; not even giving Peeta a fleeting glance lest their eyes get caught again and Cato had to put the boy back in his place.

Once Cato had made his way over towards Clove, their banter lost in the sounds of Marvel trying to shove about the District three boy, Peeta bent down to collect the hunting knife. Dislodging the curved silver blade from the ground below, the blonde dropped to his knees beside the creature that was slumped in such a way that made his skin crawl. It's head was bent back, where Cato had slit it's throat was open and still lightly bleeding out, and it's legs seemed to twist every which way like some sort of puzzle – it was simply cruel to even look at. Holding the knife in his hand, Peeta hesitated and bit into his lip as he felt his gut tighten; where would he even start? His gaze lingered over the animal for what seemed like ages, his face feeling as if it was paling every second that his attention seemed to linger on the poor departed animal before him. Sure, Peeta ate meat and had seen the squirrels his father used to buy off Katniss, but this was different; Peeta had never actually had to tear the hide away from an animal before and he certainly hadn't had to watch the brutality of the animal's death before. Another shallow swallow, his adam's apple bobbing weakly in his throat, Peeta slowly made a cut in the deer's flesh and began to angle the knife like he'd remembered seeing people do at the markets when skinning other meats. It wasn't as easy as he looked, and with each drag of the knife and each tug of hide, the blonde boy felt his face begin to become clammy and his stomach begin to churn more and more.

"Taking your time there." Cato was before him once more, Peeta had been so heavily enveloped on controlling his stomachs contents that he hadn't even heard the burly boy approach him and didn't know how long he'd been standing over him. "Sorry. The most I skin is fruit to put in pies." He cast his glance up at the other, the sun beating down on his face and making slight, scarce, freckles here and there show up on the smaller boy's face – he could only hope the remark and his face didn't show just how sick his actions were making him. "Figures, geeze aren't you good for anything Loverboy?" Cato knelt beside the boy and took his hand that held the knife, angling his wrist properly before causing it to make a far neater incision compared to Peeta's previous ones; clearing more hide. The feeling of Cato's larger, heavier, hand taking Peeta's smaller, more delicate, one caused him to glance down in time to see the slicing motions the other had guided him to do. Unfortunately it also seemed to be enough to force the smaller blonde's stomach over the edge, Peeta leaned to his side away from Cato and felt the contents of his stomach empty itself into the patchy grass. His hand instantly went to his mouth to wipe away any that seemed to linger on his lips, instantly feeling his face become hot as he heard what he feared he would – the Careers must have all been watching Cato and Peeta, and as Peeta had turned away from them he could hear them all start laughing; like a pack of cruel hyenas.

It was slowly becoming the final blow and he'd barely lasted a day with them, he needed to escape; this whole plan he had when he'd first entered the arena – to band with the Careers and keep them off Katniss' trail whilst keeping himself alive as long as he could to keep her safe – it wasn't going to work, not any more. If he continued on this way he was bound to be dead within the next handful of days, less the Careers kept him for their amusement, and at that thought he had to wonder. Would Katniss have done the same thing? He had to doubt it, he didn't mean to her what she had meant to him; and he had to admit he surely was beginning to realize he never really would. But that was a thought for later, as the chorus of the Career pack's laughter rang out around him, the burly blonde to his opposite side smacked him harshly on the shoulder before getting to his feet, leaving the knife lodged into the deer. "Finish it, Loverboy." It was careless, the words even said with a chuckle at the end and Peeta looked up to watch the self proclaimed leader of their little troupe saunter back towards the fire, high fiving Marvel as he passed him and knocking his fist with Cloves slightly. Narrowing his gaze, Peeta wiped his mouth again with the back of his hand before looking back at the deer and taking up the knife again without another word – he was going to get out tonight or die trying.


	3. Chapter 3 - A minor flaw

"I'll keep watch." The last set of words that had left Peeta's mouth to any of the Careers that night, and hopefully the last he would ever have to exchange with them. He'd spent the rest of the day dealing with their poking, their teasing, biting his tongue and simply taking the shoves as they came – some were stabs at Katniss, others at how useless he was, and then of course came Cato's own little addition to all the needless bullying; the physical knocks, the tripping and pushing. It was all leading up to this, the moment Peeta was in right now he had spent the whole day planning, as he sat by the fire with his knees pulled to his chest and surrounded in only the sounds of crackles of the flames before him and creatures of the arena moving about the heavily wooded area beside them. He let his bright eyes linger over each of the sleeping members of the Career Pack, watching them each for a moment – Glimmer was breathing lightly, a pure image of grace the way she slept as if she was back at home in her luxury silk lined sheets. And Marvel was the same, curled up beside Glimmer and looking as if he had not a care in the world. The other boy he had yet to know the name of was still balled up away from the others like he didn't belong, which Peeta knew he didn't; and then there was Clove, laying face down and out to the world. Finally Peeta's eyes settled on the burly blonde nearest him, watching the hulky frame of the boy shift each time he brought in a breath of air only to exhale it moments later; his muscles twitching every now and then as if he could never truly relax himself. Out of everyone here, as Peeta's eyes lingered on Cato, the boy knew that this monster of a boy was the one thing that scared him the most about this place.

Finally Peeta was able to tear his pale blue eyes away from the sleeping boy, giving everyone else a once over before slowly lifting himself to his feet. Every action beyond this point needed to be perfect, he couldn't make a noise or leave behind any trace of where he had gone – for he was sure that if the Career's knew they would hunt him down and...well he'd rather not think about what would become of him when they found him. Swallowing the lump in his throat at the thought, the blonde moved very carefully to grab the knife he had used earlier when Cato had forced him to skin the deer, the blade was still lodged into the – now skinned – carcass of the animal. With a light tug he managed to free it, looking around as he heard the sound of the carcass beneath him lightly pad against the ground once it was relieved of the knife that was once lodged in it – though the sound was surely faint it still felt as if it was loud enough to wake someone, yet the Careers slept on as if they were all oblivious to the boy at work. With a small inward sigh of relief, Peeta moved next on his tip toes towards the scattered supplies that the Career pack kept close to themselves – not the pile that sat so dangerously on display. Grabbing a satchel and a small flask filled with water along with a few greasy handfuls of the lean leftover meat from a leg of the deer, Peeta stuffed the contents into the satchel and hung it over one of his shoulders; straightening himself up, the boy looked around once more to scan the area, listening to only the crackle of the fire and the faint echo of the artificial breeze rustling in the trees. This was it, it was now or nothing – and with such a thought in mind, Peeta gave a fleeting look at the Career camp, at the fire and the pile of supplies, at the line of sleeping tributes and finally at the brute he'd come to know as Cato. Letting his gaze linger on the bulkier boy for just a split moment longer than the others, Peeta finally turned on his heel and made a brisk dash towards the woods – not glancing back again, moving as quickly as he could into the cover of the trees and the darkness within them.

Had Peeta had chanced a look back he would have noticed Cato's dark eyes watching him, in fact Cato had been awake the whole time – like a predator in wait for its prey, silently observing Peeta's movements all the while pretending he was dead to the world. As he watched Peeta disappear into the woods, the brute of a boy hesitated in his position on the ground, eyes open and still staring in the exact direction the boy had fled in; finally he pressed his meaty hands to the ground beneath him and lifted his entire bulky frame up to his feet. Was he going to pursue him? He wasn't sure, but part of his knew that Peeta was as good as dead out within the woods – and while he told himself he needed to bring the boy back to use him against Katniss another part told him to let the boy go, the part of him that was bred to kill simply saw it as one less sorry person to crush. But despite what that side of himself argued, Cato still made his way to pick up a satchel of his own, not packing it as well as Peeta had, and snatching up his own sword, adjusting the weapon to his back. Cato didn't even let his gaze linger over the other Careers, he knew they'd be fine without him – when they woke Clove would take command, the others would obey; it was exactly how Cato seemed to have already planned it out. He knew Peeta was up to something since earlier in the day, the simple gritted teeth and silence no matter how far they tried to push him – either Peeta was the most tolerant kid in all of Panem or he had something to look forward to; and Cato was right.

Giving all his supplies and equipment a once over – the lack of things he packed showed that Cato had no intent to be gone more than a day – the burly blonde made his own was towards the darkness of the tree covered area that he had seen Peeta flee into. Cato allowed himself to become consumed by the darkness, only glancing over his shoulder once he was a good meter or so into the thickness of the woods to see the faint flicker of what must have been the fire at the Career camp; looking forward once again and moving as silently as he could manage. There were no markers or beacons for where Peeta could have actually gone, Cato was going in search for the boy blind – and in the back of his mind he had to scold himself for not being better prepared to hunt down the boy. Peering through the darkness the best he could, Cato continued with his own mental argument over just where Peeta had gone, should Cato just leave him out here to suffer the fate he was bringing upon himself? What if Katniss had already come and rescued him? Whilst muddling over the thoughts in his head, Cato took a step onto what felt like a sturdy rock at first but turned out to be a deceiving hollowed log. His weight caused the obstacle beneath him to crumble and the burly boy lost his footing, causing his to slip down in the slight incline through the darkness, smacking straight into the large trunk of a tree – the action temporarily knocking the wind from his chest. The noise of the fall and the grunt that came from Cato's lips upon the impact against the tree must have startled something nearby – and as Cato heard the rustling he knew it was far too big to be anything but human. Pushing himself away from the tree, the tightness in his chest still lingering but having to be pushed out of his mind for him to focus, Cato glared through the darkness in the direction of the rustling as it moved closer, as if it was trying to see what had made the noise without actually getting close enough to be in danger. Patience had never been one of Cato's strong virtues, but he waited and watched the darkness despite the fact that aside from the leaves barely a meter from his face he was blinded, before the sound of breathing just beyond those leaves caught his attention.

Suddenly the burly boy lunged forward, using his calf muscles to project him at the target and allowing him to tackle whoever had been hidden in the bushes; though he had a hunch who it was, once his arms gripped around the slightly toned form that squirmed and kicked beneath him. Peeta's hand went up to grab at Cato's hair while the brute of a boy fought to keep the smaller one in a headlock. "L-let go!" Peeta grunted as he continued to struggle, already assuming that his own fate was impending, Cato however had other plans. While it would have been easier to break the smaller boy's neck they needed him to hunt out Katniss, and despite telling the boy he was constantly useless, Cato knew he would come in handy eventually. Slowly he released his grip on the smaller boy and allowed him to slip from his arms; grabbing the back of his collar however before he could get away. "Tsk, Tsk Loverboy. Running away like this? You're more trouble than you're worth." The menacing teenager smirked down at the other, a glimpse of cruelty on his face as the faint beams of filtered moonlight seemed to make the features just that much more terrifying to Peeta. The smaller boy couldn't respond, instead he stared up at Cato, unable to hide the look of a commonly kicked puppy that was in fear of its abusive owner. "Try another stunt like this one and I won't be coming to save your sorry ass." Cato's tone was like a warning, his grip releasing as he partly shoved Peeta back as if to define the words he'd just said to the boy. Peeta stood behind Cato as the bigger boy turned around, not daring to take off again without the light on his side – instead taking to peering around in the darkness for a few moments before settling his gaze on the outline of the burly brute before him. "Cato?" Peeta finally piped up after no movement, an eyebrow raised within the darkness as he grew more and more confused. "Why aren't we going back?"


	4. Chapter 4 - Lost but not found

The words seemed to linger in the silence for a moment, accompanied only by the generic cricket chirp and twitter of a bird in the darkness but nothing more – and for the prolonged moment Cato looked at a loss, his back still to Peeta and his teeth grit slightly, one corner of his upper lip quirked up a little as his bright eyes glanced to each side. The moment went on before Peeta felt the need to clear his throat, leaning slightly forward with the foliage under his feet rustling ever so slightly as he did so, and speaking again; his tone still hushed and faint. "Cato?" It seemed only the other boy's name was able to leave his mouth, as the smaller blonde shifted forward and parted his lips to speak again Cato reached back, his movements were swifter and reminded Peeta of the moment he had seen the burly blonde slaughter the deer only this time it was more frightening, in the dark – and this time he was the target. The bulky hands of the blonde moved quickly to pull the boy in front of him and pulling Peeta's smaller framed back against his own chest, his meaty hand going to cover the other's mouth as he did so. And there they stood, Peeta with his eyes wide like the deer and Cato with his teeth instinctively bared and glaring around them in the darkness – the same silence falling upon them but this time Peeta knew there was something different about it; Peeta knew, by the sound of Cato's heart beat that he could feel banging through the burly boy's chest and against the back of his own head, that there was an element of fear to it.

Whatever the difference was, Cato knew that he couldn't fight without seeing his opponent – the risk was too great and Peeta had already given away any element of surprise they would have had. Another rustle in the trees above them, the burly blonde's neck snapping directly up to glare through the darkness, one strong arm still holding Peeta in place while successfully silencing the boy. No, a fight wasn't possible – especially if he didn't know just how many people he could be facing, glancing through the darkness in the direction of the camp – or at least where Cato assumed it was-, Cato frowned and slowly began backing in the opposite direction; Peeta still in his grip and making a muffled noise of protest as he was pulled backwards with the, less than gentle, brute of a boy. Cato's rough grip on the blonde only got tighter with the protests, urging Peeta to stop and to simply follow along with the other - through the thickets of the low bushes and trees and deeper into the darkness of the decline. The rustling followed, and the two boys hardly being figures of stealth had to pause every now and then to listen, only to be forced to keep pressing onwards; though Peeta's protest and struggling had eased up at this point despite Cato's grip on the boy remaining just as rough and tight. Yet the sound still followed, who ever it was - or whatever for that matter - seemed relentless, only pushing Cato to run further and faster into the darkness. Dragging Peeta with him, the boy giving grunts and whines beneath the hand covering his mouth and holding him up, Cato blinding ran down the decline, his torso knocking into trees here and there yet his body turning upon collision to avoid knocking the smaller blonde into the obstacles.

It was after a good half an hour, and another stop in the pitch black of the night, that Cato finally released the other, whatever had been following them or watching them had either moved on or had been lost in the frantic blind movements to escape in the night. Whatever one it was it no longer mattered, not to Cato at least - Peeta, however, once he was released lifted a finger and jabbed the burly blonde right in the chest with it, scowling a little in the dark. "A bit of a warning next time, you could have broken my ankle or something." The shorter of the two blondes was referring to how carelessly Cato carried him through the underbrush and to their current location. Their current location...where were they? Cato glanced down at the tinier blonde with a scoff, the moonlight filtered through the trees over head illuminated the face of the baker's boy, which only caused Cato's brow to quirk to match the noise he'd made. "You're welcome." The brute muttered out, a hand lifting to wipe his brow as he looked around through the darkness, though it seemed that beyond the trees around them - lit up but the silver lined glow of the faux moon in the sky overhead - there was only more darkness and nothing much else. "Welcome? Welcome?!" Peeta began before sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment as if to calm himself, Peeta wasn't one to loose his cool, not like this. Though, in the younger blonde's defense, he had just been dragged off into darkness by a careless career, whom of which Peeta still assumed had every intent to harm him before they made it back to the camp. The camp, a thought of the warm fire and the illusion of a safety net that being around the careers had provided him, it was enough to settle his thoughts at least for now and let his mind instead return to the burlier of the two.

Cato sighed and slowly rested his back against one of the bigger trees around them, the wood creaking and the leaves just above Cato's head rustling from the weight that now relied on them for support. "Get some sleep Loverboy, you're going to need it tomorrow - it'll be a long walk back." Lifting his hand as he spoke, Cato rubbed his knuckle under his nose and winced only slightly at the contact, though he felt it was safe to do so seeing as it was probably too dark for Peeta to see the small falter in the tough front Cato constantly put up. But he did, Peeta saw the grit teeth and the crinkled bridge of Cato's nose and the faint shimmer of blood that left one of his nostrils in a fine trail down to the tip of his upper lip; it must've happened during one of the collisions in their mad dash through the trees. Biting his lip, Peeta frowned a little up at the bigger boy. "I don't need to sleep, I'll be fine...you're hurt." While the nosebleed was surely nothing, Peeta had lost count of the amount of times the brute of a boy before him had smashed into trees on their escape, he was positive there was more damage beyond just Cato's nose. "I'm fine, haven't you ever had a nosebleed before? Figures." Cato muttered, though he could already feel the area of his nose and his cheek swelling and starting to form a nasty looking bruise that would probably be showing by sunrise. "I wasn't asking you 12, I was telling you. Get some sleep before I put you to sleep myself." The words weren't said with venom however, they were said with a slight hint of irritation at Peeta's defiance but still flat and rather emotionless beyond that. Peeta knew arguing wouldn't get him anywhere, the boy sighed and lowered himself to the leaf riddled floor, his head resting near Cato's feet as he rolled his back to the burly boy without an argument, though sleep never came. Instead Peeta laid in the same position, listening to the idle sounds in the night, the faint echo of a scream jolting him slightly before it was followed by a cannon - Peeta glanced up over his shoulder slightly, only to catch Cato looking up at the sky, a familiar expression on his face that described the sound his heart beat had made earlier, the expression of fear.


End file.
